


A Good Cause

by LinneaKou



Series: The Night Has A Thousand Eyes [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Bachelor Auction, Batman AU, Charity Auctions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Excessive Drinking, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gotham AU, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 03:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10688727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinneaKou/pseuds/LinneaKou
Summary: Yuuri and Viktor finally cross paths at a New Year's Eve charity event. It's quite an event.





	A Good Cause

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crowtective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowtective/gifts).



♛

It was only six o’clock in the evening and Yuuri was already on his third flute of champagne.

“Katsuki-senpai,” his newest intern, Minami, popped up at his elbow. “Is it smart to be drinking so much?”

Yuuri downed the remainder in the glass and sighed. “Please, let me have this before I allow myself to be sold in an auction.”

Minami’s eyebrows went up. “Are you _that_ nervous?”

“That’s the thing about anxiety,” Yuuri answered. “It turns molehills into mountains. Besides, I have a high tolerance. This won’t do much.”

“Still.” Minami took Yuuri’s glass away and handed it to a passing server, stopping Yuuri from getting another. “Okukawa-sensei told me to cut you off.”

“Minako?” Yuuri looked up at his mentor across the room, eyes narrowing. She shot him a _look_ that meant she was serious.

Damn.

“I don’t wanna do this,” Yuuri whined quietly. He and Minami had been talking in Japanese, so the servers most likely hadn’t understood much of what he said, but his tone was undeniable. “I get it’s for charity but I would rather donate a kidney.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Minami reassured him cheerfully. “And besides, Okukawa-sensei will probably bid on you anyway.”

Yuuri gulped and took his glasses off to rub at his eyes.

“N-not that I don’t think you won’t have plenty of bids!” Minami hurried to add.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Yuri muttered. He again fervently wished he could have stayed at home with Phichit to watch the ball drop. They could have gone to Yu-topia and partied with Yuuri’s family. Yuuri would have been so much more comfortable.

But no, he was in one of his nicer suits and his hair was slicked back off of his face, and Minako had even smeared pink lip tint on his mouth. He wanted to crawl under a rock and die, and no one was even pawing at him yet.

At least Cobblepot wasn’t going to be present, he reminded himself. Just the thought of the infamous Penguin trying to buy a midnight kiss from Yuuri was enough to make him want to throw up all the champagne and hors d'oeuvres he’d been nibbling on all afternoon.

“I wonder if Mister Nikiforov is getting this nervous,” Minami said, and Yuuri blinked.

“What?”

“You know,” Minami shrugged. “Viktor Nikiforov. I’ve never met him, but Okukawa-sensei said he was excited to take part in the--”

“ _Take part in?!_ ” Yuuri interrupted, eyes wide. “Take part in _what_?!”

Minami blinked. “Uh. The charity auction?”

“ _V-V-V--_ ” Yuuri couldn’t get the words out, his brain kept short-circuiting. Instead, he turned on his heel and hurried across the banquet hall, leaving Minami standing by the ficus in the corner with a hilariously gobsmacked expression on his face.

Minako looked up from her conversation with the GPSD superintendent and put on a sunny smile as Yuuri skidded to a halt next to her. “Hi, Yuuri, is something the matter?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about _him_?!” Yuuri demanded in Japanese.

Minako blinked, same as Minami had, and then she turned to the superintendent and smiled. “Excuse me,” she said in English, before grabbing Yuuri’s wrist and dragging him away.

Once they were out of earshot of the school board members, she frowned at Yuuri and crossed her arms over her glittery black cocktail dress. “Yuuri. Do you know how you look right now?”

“Minako,” Yuuri shot back, mirroring her pose. “Do you know how I’m gonna look when _Viktor freaking Nikiforov_ walks into the dressing room before the auction and sits down with the rest of us?”

Minako’s face froze and then she let out a nervous laugh. “Ah. I. Ah. Forgot to. Tell you?”

Yuuri glared at her. “I’m going home.”

Minako glared back at him. “ _You will not._ ”

Yuuri grimaced, and Minako poked him _hard_ in the stomach.

“Yuuri! Get a grip on yourself!”

“You _know_ I had a crush on Viktor Nikiforov!” Yuuri hissed. “And you _forgot_ to tell me that he’d be in the auction too?”

“I knew you’d freak out,” Minako muttered. She sighed and leaned back on her heels a little, eyeing Yuuri with a concerned expression. “Please, Yuuri, can’t you just hold out for me?”

Yuuri pursed his lips and glanced at the drinks table. “Can you not cut me off?”

“Don’t get drunk during this,” Minako said in a low voice. “You know how you get.”

Yuuri winced. “Minako-senpai--”

“Don’t give me that.” Minako poked him again. “Yuuri, you can do this. It’s for _charity_.”

Yuuri whined again, but then huffed and bowed his head. “Fine.”

“Attaboy.” Minako patted him on the head. “Hold off on the booze until after we’re done.”

“Minami said you’d bid on me,” Yuuri seized her wrist. “Please, please win. _Please_.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Minako reminded him.

Yuuri scrunched up his face in preparation for another whine, and she grabbed his cheek for a pinch. “You’re a big boy, Yuuri-kun. You can handle this.”

“I don’t wanna,” Yuuri mumbled. “What if Ms. Pendergast tries to bid on me?”

“Then the drink ban is off.” Minako grinned at him.

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at her. “You are gonna owe me _so big_.”

“I’ll take you out shopping later.”

Yuuri perked up. “Shopping” was their code word for recon, and Yuuri had grown rather attached to some shiny, pretty baubles that had been on display at Tiffany’s.

“Deal,” he said, and Minako grinned at him.

“You’re so transparent, Yuuri.” She pecked him on the cheek and glided off to continue her duties as the hostess.

Yuuri sighed and fixed his hair one last time as Minami wandered back over.

“You look fine!” the intern chirped, flashing Yuuri a bright smile. “Stop messing with it.”

“I’m going to die tonight. Either of embarrassment or alcohol poisoning.” Yuuri pinched the bridge of his nose and told himself to think of that beautiful robin’s egg sapphire he’d been daydreaming of.

“Don’t talk like that!” Minami said, frowning.

Yuuri shook his head and eyed the appetizers again. “At least I’ll die in the lap of luxury.”

 

The emcee was prepping the bachelors in the dressing room, and Yuuri was trying to keep from throwing up all of the many canapes that he’d ended up scarfing while trying to mingle with the handsy society matrons (who hadn’t gotten the memo that gay = not interested in their daughters) and honestly, _what had he been thinking?_

“Yuuri!”

He jumped as Christophe Giacometti slid an arm around his waist and laughed. “So you didn’t chicken out!”

“Minako,” Yuuri said, as if that explained everything.

And really, it kind of did. Chris, who had had many encounters with Minako, nodded. “Ah.”

“There you are!” JJ appeared in front of them, grinning. “What do you say, Detective? How about a wager?”

“Pass,” Chris answered easily, patting Yuuri on the back. “Try to have fun, Yuuri.”

“Yeah. Fun.” Yuuri sighed again as Chris wandered away, leaving him with JJ.

“What about it, Yuuri?”

“I don’t want to make a bet,” Yuuri said tiredly. “C’mon, JJ, you know you’ll get a high bid.”

“I just hope Isabella doesn’t get jealous,” JJ chortled, rubbing his hands together. “It’s for a good cause, though!”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at the younger man. “Did you go to a public school?”

“Ah, only until middle school. And in Canada.” JJ shrugged.

“Mm.” Yuuri eyed the college student. “Well, I can honestly agree; this is a good cause.”

“At least _try_ to appeal to the ladies, huh?”

Yuuri winced, and JJ actually caught on. “C’mon, Yuuri, it’s just an act!” He pushed lightly at Yuuri’s shoulder. “Besides, the whole Midnight’s Kiss thing, it’s all goofy sentimental stuff.”

“Does Isabella know you think that?” Yuuri asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I do it to make her happy,” JJ said in a brave tone, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his sentimentality. “But seriously, it’s not a big deal. It’s just one night.”

“That’s not really what I’m worried about.”

“What is it, then?” JJ eyed him strangely.

Yuuri shrugged. “I’m just not comfortable with this whole thing at all.”

“That’s odd,” JJ said. “But hey, it’s just a charity thing, only for one night.”

“I know that, but. You know.” Yuuri tapped at his temple. “My brain is a traitor. All I can think is, what is everyone thinking of this? I feel like a piece of meat.”

“Aw,” JJ made a sympathetic face. He clearly didn’t understand, but still, he was making an effort. Yuuri could appreciate that. “Maybe one of the girls will win you and you’ll get to just hang out all night.”

“I was hoping Minako would, to be honest.” Yuuri shrugged.

“That’d work!” JJ raised a hand for a high-five, which Yuuri half-heartedly met. “Good luck!”

Yuuri shot him a sincere smile, and JJ nodded before drifting away to bother Mickey again.

The emcee came back in to shout the time, and Yuuri wished he’d thought to grab something to fiddle with. He didn’t even have his phone. He settled for picking at the sleeve of his suit jacket.

A hush fell over the assembled bachelors, and Yuuri looked up. And then his jaw dropped.

He’d seen Viktor Nikiforov on TV after the man’s court date, and again at a Nikiforov Enterprises Christmas Eve presser, but had yet to actually be in the same room as him. Now, he realized that he hadn’t been prepared.

Viktor Nikiforov walked like he owned the world and knew it. He moved with a fluid grace that made Yuuri’s mouth water, and carried himself with a kind of confidence that Yuuri would have killed for in his everyday, society persona. Yuuri had no doubt Viktor would be highly sought after, and if he was not mistaken (judging by the surprise of the other guys and the fact that Minako hadn’t even told _him_ about Viktor’s inclusion in the auction) there would be something of an uproar once he was paraded across the stage.

He swallowed as Viktor flashed a smile at the assemblage and tapped his forehead in greeting.

“Well, looks like our last bachelor is present!” The emcee straightened his gaudy sequined jacket and swept a hand through his hair one last time before clapping his hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, two minutes to showtime! My lovely assistant will signal each of you when it’s your turn to go on. Got it? Good.” He disappeared to the backstage and Yuuri could hear the roar of the gala’s guests from the next room.

Near the door, Chris threw an arm around Viktor’s shoulders and the silver-haired man laughed at something the detective said in his ear. It was a beautiful laugh, and he had a heart-shaped smile. Yuuri was a goner. It had been ten years and his childhood crush still had that effect on him.

“All right!” the emcee’s assistant said loudly, whistling. “Michele Crispino, on deck!”

Mickey grimaced, but slapped a stiff smile as he followed the assistant’s gestured instructions and stepped backstage.

One by one, the other guys were called. When Yuuri was summoned, he had to pass Chris and Viktor by the door. Chris shot him a cocky grin, and Viktor looked up at him. Their eyes met for a brief second, and every one of Yuuri’s limbs went temporarily numb. He tore his eyes away from the piercing blue gaze and followed the assistant’s directions, standing just offstage and waiting for his introduction.

“Next up,” the emcee was saying. “Co-owner of a beloved ethnic restaurant in our lovely theatre district, and second-in-command to our lovely hostess. He himself is a graduate of the Gotham Public School District, a real rags-to-riches story! You’ve all seen him around town, here’s your chance to get to know the man behind several of our city’s most successful scholarship programmes!”

Yuuri grimaced at the ‘rags-to-riches’ bit and tugged at his collar.

“Give a warm welcome to Yuuriiiiiiiiii _Katsukiiiiiiiiii_!”

He stepped onstage, head ducked against the blinding spotlights, and moved to stand alongside the emcee, who nudged him forward as the gala’s guests cheered and clapped.

As his eyes adjusted to the glare, he caught sight of Minako off to stage-right. She caught his eye and gave him the “buck up!” look, raising her chin and gesturing at him.

He straightened his spine and pushed his shoulders back, schooling his expression into one that was hopefully at least neutral. He noticed Minako again, and she grinned exaggeratedly and pointed to her lips.

Yuuri thought of the sapphire and how it would look in his trophy case, and allowed his mouth to curl into a small smile.

He heard a few hushed “ooh”s from the audience and Minako flashed him the thumbs-up.

The emcee gestured for him to step back and join the other bachelors in a line behind him, which he did, and JJ gave him a surreptitious fistbump and mouthed, ‘you’re killing it’.

Yuuri wasn’t too sure of that, but he’d take it anyway.

A few more guys were called out, various other entrepreneurs and heirs and a few members of the public service - Chris had offered himself up as a volunteer on behalf of the GPD, as had a few firefighters and one of the members of the US Olympic soccer team. All sure to fetch high bids. At least this fundraiser would be a success.

He was starting to feel comfortable again, surrounded by eligible bachelors and put on display on a stage in one of the biggest ballrooms in Gotham, when the emcee called for silence.

“And now, a surprise, last-minute addition to our roster: the Prodigal Son of Gotham who needs no introduction… _Viktorrrr Nikiforooooooooov!_ ”

Gasps rippled through the guests, and a few women actually shrieked as Viktor made his way a cross the stage. He was grinning easily, albeit a different smile from the one Chris had gotten out of him backstage. Still, he waved at the applauding crowd and took his spot with the rest of the men, and Yuuri had to force himself to keep his eyes on the mass of people in front of the stage, searching out familiar faces.

Sara Crispino waved to him and waggled her eyebrows, and Mila blew him a kiss. Near Minako, he caught sight of Emil Nekola, his and Phichit’s friend and longtime fence. It helped having someone who moved in high class circles, and Minako quite approved of Emil’s attitude towards the whole society game. He also waved at Yuuri and winked.

Celestino was somewhere around there as well - Yuuri had introduced the lawyer to Minako and they had hit it off, and she’d invited him to participate in the auction. He’d declined to the auction, but had donated to the cause and shown up for the party. Yuuri eventually spotted him talking to Mayor Babicheva by the punch bowl.

Yuuri wished that Phichit had decided to come along with him, but his friend had chosen to instead spend New Year’s Eve taking advantage of the revelry and general chaos of the night to cause trouble in cyberspace. Yuuri couldn’t begrudge him - he had a few targets that could use some softening before he tackled them in the new year.

Still, even keeping his shiny, sparkling motivations firmly in his mind, there was a certain threshold of uncomfortableness that Yuuri was skating along. He took a moment to pray that Minako would make good on her word that she’d try to defend him from the Ms. Pendergasts on the guestlist.

“Now, custom says we ought to build up to our surprise guest, but when has Gotham ever been a city to follow the rules?” The emcee grinned and the crowd began to get rowdy again. “So let’s start off this auction with the one and only Viktor Nikiforov!”

The man stepped forward, and the squeals from the attendees started to ramp up again. Yuuri allowed himself to stare, marveling at how even the back of that silver head was gloriously attractive, not to mention that _ass--_

Yuuri gulped, and dragged his eyes back up to Viktor’s shoulders. Those strong, broad shoulders…

God, he was embarrassingly _gone_ . One look at Mila and Sara showed that they were grinning knowingly at him, and the urge to, again, _crawl under a rock and die_ swept over him. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the emcee, who had started the bid.

Unsurprisingly, it started high. One of the society heiresses put up five thousand dollars, and it climbed from there. To Yuuri’s horror, Minako began to join in. She put in for eight thousand, then ten thousand, then twelve, and finally won at fifteen thousand dollars.

Yuuri’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t help but glare at his mentor as she claimed her prize; one of the rules of the auction was that bidders couldn’t bid anymore after they won. She shot him an unapologetic look and motioned for him to smile again.

He made a face at her, and she just grinned at him as she dragged Viktor off to her table and the next bachelor was called up.

JJ was third in line, and Yuuri actually felt bad for the college student when there was only a spattering of interest in him. Thankfully, Isabella was there to eventually put up five thousand dollars and win him for the evening. Yuuri could see her trying to cheer him up at their table, alongside his parents. JJ himself seemed deflated in his disappointment, and Yuuri was glad he hadn’t seen anyone take the young man up on his wager.

Chris was seventh to go, and he surprisingly was won by a member of the City Council whose name Yuuri couldn’t quite remember. The sandy-haired man put up seven thousand for his company, and Chris’s eyes had lit up when the man won the bid. Yuuri thought that was sweet, but he was still rather antsy now that he was down to two, possibly three safeties in the auction. He knew he could count on Mila and Sara, maybe Emil, to defend his virtue.

And then that hope was dashed somewhat when Emil bidded on Mickey, snagging the young restaurant heir for six thousand. Yuuri thought Mickey looked rather relieved at the turn of events, and he couldn’t help but wince as he lost another backup.

Thankfully, he wasn’t the last to go. There were still two other guys on stage behind him when the emcee called him forward. He summoned his motivation, thought of the jewels, and faced the assembly.

Minako shot him another thumbs-up, and he resisted the urge to pull a face at her. Instead, he looked out over the sea of faces, catching Mila’s eye.

Unsurprisingly, Ms. Pendergast put up the first bid. Yuuri had spent the past year and a half avoiding her on the society circuit, but that didn’t deter her in her quest to possibly ensnare him for her fourth marriage.

Yuuri only barely managed to not wince.

Sara chimed in, upping the price on his head by about $1,500, but Ms. Pendergast met it and drove it higher. He was starting to feel lightheaded.

_Damn it, Minako!_

Mila joined the bidding, and he resolved to get her some kind of gift if she won him. Sara too. Or any of the other society daughters who would happily bid on him just to let him wallflower for the night.

But then again, there were a few other people quite willing to bid on him that he would rather not win, and they all seemed to be in attendance. Yuuri closed his eyes and gathered his nerves.

Mila was getting tenacious in her bidding, and furiously combatting the matrons and divorcees as they attempted to snatch at Yuuri. He wondered privately how she could possibly afford him, and startled when the emcee called out the current bid on him - _twelve thousand_.

“Twelve-fifty!” Ms. Pendergast yelled, glaring at Mila.

“Thirteen!” Mila shouted, raising her paddle.

Ms. Pendergast looked ready to shout another bid, but then she yelped and jerked in surprise - Minako, probably - and the emcee took that as concession and shouted “sold! To young Miss Babicheva!”

Mila and Sara both whooped - and that explained how she was affording _thirteen thousand dollars_ on a bid for him. His suspicions were confirmed when he ended up situated between the two of them, and Sara patted his shoulder. “It went a little higher than we were anticipating, but we’re splitting the cost.”

“Thank you,” he said profusely, clasping both of their hands. “ _Thank you_.”

Ms. Pendergast, a few tables over, glared sourly at the girls as they both pecked him on either cheek.

Mayor Babicheva looked amused, and Mr. and Mrs. Crispino looked a bit annoyed at their daughter spending over six thousand dollars just to keep their friend from getting pawed at by an old divorcee, but in the end they seemed to let it go.

“I thought Minako was gonna bid on you,” Mila said as Yuuri gratefully downed a glass of champagne offered to him.

“She was, and then I guess she decided Mister Nikiforov was a better date.” Yuuri couldn’t even find it in himself to be bitter anymore, because Mila and Sara were _safety_ and he was going to be fine.

“She’s on the board, right Daddy?” Sara asked her father, who nodded.

“To be honest, I never pegged Ms. Okukawa as a cougar,” Mrs. Crispino said, waggling her eyebrows.

“She’s not,” Yuuri said instantly. “But she usually has a nefarious plan up her sleeve.”

Mila’s eyes widened and Sara made a strange noise, but Yuuri decided to disregard that in favor of grabbing another glass. By the time the auction wrapped up, they’d netted a couple hundred thousand for the charity from the bidding alone. Minako certainly looked happy, even if she was monopolizing the unofficial man of the hour. Yuuri wanted to get up and go over and bitch at her for… well, whatever tumbled out of his mouth first. But that would mean standing near _him_ again. Talking in front of _him_. Minako might even introduce Yuuri--

Nope. He wasn’t getting up. He was going to talk with Mila and Sara and their parents for the rest of the night, and drink.

Perfect.

 

♘

Viktor wasn’t surprised when Ms. Okukawa started to bid on him. She probably saw the minute twitch that he’d barely suppressed when those horrifyingly intense-eyed society mamas got that _look_ on their faces. That look that said _I could possibly become the wealthiest man in Gotham’s mother-in-law_ and made them do terrifying things.

And what was worse were the expressions that the socialites and debutantes got when the emcee called him up for bidding. Viktor, for the first time in a decade, felt like a piece of meat being dangled in front of a pack of ravenous wolves.

So when Ms. Okukawa won him (and told him to just hang at her table for the night) he felt the purest, sheerest relief he’d ever felt in his life.

“Ew,” said Yuri as he glared at the emcee on stage, hyping one of the Olympians. “This feels so wrong.”

“Don’t talk in Russian,” Viktor said, also in Russian. He sipped at his water, casting his gaze over the attendees of the gala. Most were familiar faces, and there were only a few newcomers.

For instance, the young man that the emcee was beckoning up just then. Minako sat upright, and leaned over to murmur to Viktor, “That’s my apprentice. I had to twist his arm and bribe him to take part in this.”

“Yuuri Katsuki!” the emcee announced, and Viktor got a good look at Yuuri’s face.

He looked terrified, even if he was clearly trying to coach himself through appearing natural and happy to be there. Still, he seemed to be about one loud noise away from bolting off the stage and into the night.

Minako shot the young man a thumbs-up, and he gave her a look that screamed “if I weren’t on stage I’d be flipping you off right now.”

Viktor had to fight down a snort as the bidding began and a furious bid-war started up between Ms. Pendergast - who Viktor remembered as being a ferocious man-eater from his childhood - and, interestingly enough, _Mila_.

_\--someone you should meet!_

Viktor narrowed his eyes and stared at Mila, who was too busy bidding on Yuuri to notice. _Just what are you planning, Milochka?_

Looking back up at the clearly-uncomfortable Yuuri, Viktor allowed himself to study the young man. He had to be in his early twenties, judging by how smooth and clear his face was. Handsome, with slicked-back hair and an athletic build. The bespoke suit did wonders to emphasize his slim waist and rather generous rear. Viktor could easily imagine this Yuuri to be a figure skater, but the way he carried himself implied a different discipline.

And while he was clearly very unwilling to be the subject of a bid-war, he still exuded something… _different_. Viktor saw flashes of it as the young man tried to compose himself: an easy confidence that momentarily manifested before being drowned out by nerves. He wondered what could make that man feel comfortable enough to show his true face.

Viktor only barely noticed it, but Ms. Okukawa scooped up one of the chalky dinner mints from the tray in front of her and flicked it _hard_ at the back of Ms. Pendergast’s head. The woman yelped, distracted long enough for the emcee to pronounce Mila the winner of the bid.

The expression of relief on Yuuri’s face was like a neon sign, and the way he slugged back a glass of champagne was… _interesting_.

“I told him to stay dry,” Ms. Okukawa muttered, but didn’t say anything else.

Viktor continued watching as her protoge snagged another glass and Mila openly laughed at him. On the stage, a bunch of people carrying musical instruments trooped into the center. After a few minutes, upbeat jazz began to play as the emcee announced the buffet table open. A crush of people rose from their seats to try and grab food.

Viktor elected to stay seated, as did Ms. Okukawa. He listened to the music a little bit more, which seemed familiar, and raised his eyebrows. “Is this a N’SYNC song?”

“Jazz arrangement cover band,” Ms. Okukawa answered. “Yuuri’s idea. Apparently they’re internet-famous and on-tour.”

Viktor nodded approvingly. “He clearly has good taste.”

Ms. Okukawa’s eyes twinkled. “I think he’d appreciate you letting him know that.”

Viktor glanced over at the young man, who was now talking animatedly with Mila and her friend (probably Mr. Crispino’s daughter, judging by their resemblance.) Mila was doubled over laughing at something he’d said, and now that the auction was over and he’d gotten some liquid courage in him, Yuuri seemed to be pretty relaxed.

It was kind of charming, really.

“Ugh,” Yuri said to Viktor’s left. “This music was stupid when it was new.”

“You’re, what? Twelve?” Viktor teased, grinning. “N’SYNC was before your time.”

“And even I can tell they were a mistake.” Yuri glanced at him and then pushed his chair back. “I want food.”

“Don’t overeat,” Viktor called after the teen, who ignored him.

On his right, Ms. Okukawa was talking to the GPSD superintendent about the turnout and current donation total; a few seats down, Viktor recognized Richard Chelsea from the Board sipping at wine and taking in the whirling activity around them.

A few of the younger guests had taken to the dancefloor and were swaying in time to the current song, which Viktor didn’t recognize. He assumed it was a more recent hit.

Mila and her friend were tugging Yuuri to his feet, and he had to be feeling that champagne by now, but he still moved like he was stone cold sober, sure and steady like a jungle cat on the hunt. When they moved to the dance floor, Viktor watched with mounting interest as the girls shared Yuuri between them, the young man matching them easily. Viktor found himself impressed.

“Mister Nikiforov?”

Viktor looked up at the speaker, a man in a well-worn suit bearing a digital recorder. “Hisashi Morooka, Gotham City Gazette.” The man flashed him a grin. “I was hoping to get a statement from you on the evening’s event and the charity.”

“Of course,” Viktor smiled, his practiced meet-the-press smile. “I’m so very happy to have been able to contribute to Ms. Okukawa’s fundraising. The Gotham Public School District deserves so many more events like this.”

“You didn’t attend public schools, though, Mister Nikiforov.”

Viktor shrugged. “That doesn’t change the fact that they need funding. It’s disappointing that the state has fumbled so badly in that regard.”

“Are you hinting at a future in politics?” Morooka pressed, eyes wide.

“Good Lord, no,” Viktor said immediately. “I plan on focusing on my family company for the foreseeable future. Politics is not a game for me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion on it.”

“Of course,” Morooka hurried to say, clearly afraid he’d insulted Viktor.

“No worries,” Viktor reassured the reporter. “In any case, I am honored to have been asked to participate in this fundraiser, and I must commend Ms. Minako Okukawa on her ability to throw a party. I look forward to the coming year, especially if more events like this one are on the horizon.”

“Excellent,” Morooka said, switching off the recorder and stuffing it in his suit pocket. “Thank you so very much, Mister Nikiforov. It was a honor and a pleasure.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Viktor said, shaking the man’s hand. “Happy New Year.”

“Same to you!” Morooka nodded, and then headed off to the next table to speak with the mayor.

Viktor was about to turn back to the table and continue people-watching, but then Mila was in front of him and grabbing his arm. “Vitya!” she trilled, face shining with perspiration. “Vitya, come dance with me!”

Ms. Okukawa grinned and waved when Viktor looked to her. “I’m setting you free for the night, Mister Nikiforov. I’ve got hostess duties.”

Viktor shrugged and allowed Mila to pull him to the dance floor.

Upon arrival, he was surprised to see Yuri in the center of a circle, dancing furiously - and literally _furiously_. Viktor had never seen the teen’s face so red, not even when Viktor managed to toss him over his shoulder while sparring in the cave.

“Dance off!” Mila’s friend shouted, clapping.

“I love it!” Mila cheered. “Battle of the Yuri’s!”

Because indeed, Yuuri Katsuki was matching Yura’s intensity, cheered on by the crowd of young adults and teen socialites around him. But unlike Yura, who was starting to flag in energy, Yuuri seemed to be channeling the Energizer Bunny. He was clearly a few more flutes of champagne further along, judging by the flush on his face and neck, and his glasses had disappeared, as his suit jacket.

Eventually, Yura conceded and slunk back to their table to brood over his defeat, and Mila’s friend Sara caught Yuuri by the wrist and tugged him into a new dance. Mila grinned at Viktor, eyebrows raised. “Isn’t he a riot?”

“He’s something,” Viktor said, almost shouting over the noise. The band began to play a variation on “What Is Love” and the crowd began to throb and sway to the music.

Mila threw her arms around Viktor’s neck and began to sing along to the song.

“You’re too young to know this song,” Viktor said, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“You’re barely old enough,” Mila retorted. She closed her eyes and belted out “ _What is love? Baby don’t hurt me, baby don’t hurt me no more!_ ”

Viktor laughed as Sara twirled past them and caught Mila, pulling them apart as the music picked up. “Group jam!” Sara yelled, dragging her brother with her. Onstage, the band was going at it, the singer’s face turning red as he vamped.

Viktor was caught up in the excitement of the crowd as the dancers began to shout along to the lyrics.

_I don't know why you're not fair_

_I give you my love, but you don't care_

_So what is right and what is wrong?_

_Gimme a sign_

“WHAT IS LOVE!” everyone yelled, pumping their fists and jumping in time, and someone bumped into Viktor’s back.

Viktor spun around as Yuuri Katsuki threw his arms around Viktor’s shoulders to steady himself. The other man swore, his face flushed and his eyes shining. “Sorry!” he shouted over the music and revelry. “Someone knocked me over!”

Viktor blinked and shook his head. “No worries!” he shouted back.

Yuuri grinned and launched back into the dancing masses, and now Viktor couldn’t look away.

Almost as if his body wasn’t under his control anymore, he found himself following Ms. Okukawa’s apprentice deeper into the crowd. On the stage, the band was getting faster. The singer had gotten a hold of a tambourine and was on his knees, belting out the lyrics. The trombone player was dancing and still managing to play. The backup singers were leading the clapping on the beat, egging on the crowd.

They reached the song’s bridge, and Yuuri caught Viktor again as the music slowed. They swayed as the others swirled around them. It was like a scene from a movie.

Yuuri was singing along, his dark eyes heavy-lidded. Viktor’s heart fluttered in his chest.

The music picked back up, and this time they were in sync. Yuuri executed impressive footwork, and he was barely even sweating at the exertion. His stamina must have been amazing. Viktor still tried valiantly to match him, and the younger man was smiling at him as they moved in time to the beat.

“ _What is love!_ ” everyone shouted. “ _Baby don’t hurt me! Baby don’t hurt me no more!_ ”

The band slowed down, and the singer bellowed the final chorus before dropping to his knees and tossing the tambourine away.

The gala attendees burst into loud cheers and applause.

Viktor was only a little surprised when Yuuri threw his arms around Viktor’s neck, giggling. “That was fun!” he said, speaking loudly so Viktor could hear him over the crowd.

Viktor nodded, his face heating up. “Yeah. I didn’t know that song could be this fun.”

Yuuri laughed as a slower, more sedate song started up. He didn’t let go of Viktor. “Welcome home, by the way.” He only barely slurred his words, which was surprising.

“Thanks,” Viktor said, his hands finding purchase on the younger man’s waist. “If all my welcomes were this nice, maybe I’d go away more often.”

“Noooooooo,” Yuuri whined, tugging Viktor closer. “Nooooo, don’t leave again. _Don’t._ ”

Viktor laughed. “Okay, just for you, I won’t.”

Yuuri smiled up at him, his eyes glimmering with… tears? “Good,” he said, barely loud enough for Viktor to catch it. “I was so sad, _so sad_ when you left before, so don’t do it _ever again_.”

“Have we met before?” Viktor asked as they swayed in time to the music.

“Once,” Yuuri answered, his nose scrunching up adorably as he thought. “I went to my friend’s birthday party at Ice Castle Gotham, and you were there. You were nice to me, even though I kept falling down.”

Viktor couldn’t recall it, but he could imagine it. “You skate?” he asked instead.

Yuuri shook his head. “Used to dance. Had to quit so I could work.” He shrugged.

Viktor should have known. “You’re still very good.”

The other man laughed. “Not as good as I used to be.”

“I mean it, I’ve never seen anyone dance like you just did.”

Yuuri blushed, and Viktor could lose himself in the young man’s sparkling eyes. He tugged Viktor close. “That means a lot to me,” he said softly in Viktor’s ear.

Viktor’s heart pounded loud enough that he could hear it, feel it throbbing in his head.

The song drew to a close, and Yuuri drew away with a frown. Viktor missed the other man’s body heat immediately ( _what was going on with him?_ ) but stifled the feeling to inquire, “what’s wrong?”

“I seem to have lost my dates,” Yuuri answered, his face still adorably scrunched. “I… I owe them for saving me from Ms. Pendergast.”

Viktor burst into laughter. “Oh god.”

“I know, right?!” Yuuri met his eyes again, and his grip on Viktor’s shoulders tightened as the music started up again. “I mean, this is for charity and all, so I guess it’s okay but I _really really_ didn’t want to be won by Ms. Pendergast. She’s grabbier than normal people!” He shuddered theatrically, which set Viktor off again. “And Minako was supposed to bid on me, she said she would,” he added sullenly, hiding his face in Viktor’s chest.

Viktor hummed. “Sorry about that. If it makes you feel any better, there were a lot of older ladies salivating at me too.”

“Of course there were,” Yuuri said into Viktor’s jacket. “You’re _Viktor Nikiforov_ , the best person in Gotham.”

Another peal of laughter burst out of Viktor again. “Best person?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said, looking up and meeting Viktor’s eyes, his chin resting on Viktor’s shoulder. “The best. So very special, _I wish I was special,_ ” he started singing along to the music, and Viktor felt himself melt a little more at that.

“Ms. Okukawa said you picked out the music tonight,” he remembered. “I really like them. Where did you find them?”

“YouTube,” Yuuri answered, grinning. “Who would have thought, huh?”

“Not me,” Viktor admitted.

They finished that song, and the next, and the next, and Yuuri seemed to be glued to him, and Viktor honestly wasn’t complaining. The emcee came back onstage to call out the time, and a flurry of activity was set into motion as the midnight countdown grew near.

At one point, Viktor caught Ms. Okukawa’s eye. She shook her head at him and gave him the “shoo” motion, and Yuuri similarly couldn’t seem to find Mila and Sara as the countdown began.

“Well,” Viktor said as the thirty-second countdown began. “I guess the new year is going to start a little differently than I thought it would.”

Yuuri tilted his head and looked at him. His flush was more pronounced, but he’d had another flute of champagne just a few minutes before, and his hands were warm around Viktor’s wrists.

Twenty seconds.

“Different as in good?” Yuuri asked.

Viktor _had_ to be blushing harder than he’d ever blushed before.

Fifteen seconds.

“Good, I hope,” he finally answered, and Yuuri’s expression brightened.

Ten seconds.

“I hope so too,” Yuuri said, pulling in close. Viktor forgot how to breathe. “You deserve nice things.”

Five.

They were bare inches apart.

Four.

Viktor could feel the other man’s breath on his lips.

Three.

His eyes fluttered shut.

Two.

Their noses touched.

One.

Viktor leaned forward, and tasted champagne and sweat, and Yuuri tilted his head again and that was so much better. The banquet hall exploded in cheers and poppers, and the band began to play Auld Lang Syne as Yuuri’s hands slid into Viktor’s hair.

They were jostled and drew apart, and Viktor felt like he was floating.

“Happy New Year,” Yuuri said softly, a total 180 from before. He bowed his head slightly, a little bob, and then stepped away and vanished into the crowd.

Viktor opened his mouth to call after him, but by the time he got his voice working again, Yuuri Katsuki had disappeared.

“Hey!” Someone kicked at his back. Viktor turned around to find Yuri Plisetsky glaring at him. “I’m tired and it’s past midnight, take me home.”

Viktor blinked and looked once more for Yuuri, but the Japanese man had disappeared more thoroughly than any of the League of Assassins devotees that he’d trained with. “Okay,” he said finally, fighting down disappointment. “Let me say goodnight to Ms. Okukawa.”

“Hurry up,” Yuri ordered, crossing his arms.

Viktor caught Ms. Okukawa by the stage, and she peered at him, her cheeks rosy. “Ah, Mister Nikiforov! Have you met Celestino, he’s a friend of ours, where did he get off to? Hey, where’s Yuuri at?”

Viktor nodded to the tall, broad-shouldered man with Mis. Okukawa and took her hand in his. “I’m afraid I lost track of Yuuri just now. I just wanted to let you know I was leaving and thank you for inviting me to this event. I had a wonderful time.”

Ms. Okukawa glanced at his lips and smiled knowingly. “Good to hear. Have a nice night, Mister Nikiforov. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” he said, letting her go back to her conversation. He found Yuri talking to Mila and Sara, and said his goodbyes to them.

“Where’s Yuuri at?” Mila asked. “Did you have fun? I know he did.”

“I don’t know where he went,” Viktor admitted.

Mila frowned and Sara laughed. “Yuuri’s always doing that, slipping off.” She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder and shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t expect him to make it to midnight without pulling his disappearing act. So yeah, he totally had fun. Thanks for that, Viktor.”

Viktor smiled at the girls and motioned to Yuri, who followed him like a shot. “Finally,” the teen grumbled as they set out to the valet. “I hate parties. Don’t drag me to any more ever again.”

Viktor didn’t answer, but Yuri squinted at him and then got in his face before he could buckle in and pull out of the driveway. “Did you put on _lipstick?_ ”

Viktor blinked and clicked on the dome light, rubbing at his lips with a finger. “Huh,” he said as it came away tinted with a light pink gloss. “No. Must’ve been my midnight kiss.”

“Disgusting,” Yuri muttered, slouching into his seat.

Viktor carefully wiped his hand on a napkin he found in his pocket and put the car in gear so he could take them home.

 

Lilia had long since retired to bed by the time Viktor and Yuri arrived at the mansion, but Yakov was still up, puttering around in the kitchen.

“Did you boys have fun?” he asked as Yuri dashed across the kitchen for the back staircase.

“Mostly,” Viktor answered, and Yakov peered at his face in a way that was strangely reminiscent of Yuri’s actions earlier.

“You’re blushing,” Yakov observed, narrowing his eyes. “Did some young lady capture your heart?”

Viktor shook his head. “It’s nothing. Goodnight, Yakov. Happy New Year.” He waved the butler off and made his way to the foyer, opting to do a quick check of the perimeter before he went to sleep.

As he checked the veranda doors in the den, he found himself humming “What Is Love” and couldn’t help but think back to those sparkling eyes, of the warmth of Yuuri Katsuki’s skin when he’d--

Viktor touched his lips again, feeling his cheeks and the back of his neck warming up. _Oh_ , he thought. _Interesting._

 

♛

Yuuri’s head was pounding, even though he’d already taken painkillers and had drunk close to a gallon of water. The office was closed until the fourth, so Yuuri had plenty of time to recover from what must have been an epic New Year’s Eve. He really only had bits and pieces of the night, and some of them he wasn’t even sure actually happened.

Like kissing Viktor Nikiforov. That _had_ to be a dream.

Yuuri moaned and laid his head down on the cold marble of his kitchen counter and examined the blood-red ruby pendant he’d lifted just after Thanksgiving. He must have snuck out of the party and come home to… mope? surrounded by prizes from his trophy case. He’d drunkenly pulled the chest out of his closet and spread all of the sparkly contents across his bed, and woken up with his face pressed into an opal necklace.

“I’m such a sad sack,” he told the pendant, turning it over in his hand. “I should just give up.”

Loud knocking on his front door made him wince, and he quickly stuffed the pendant into his robe pocket and closed the door to his bedroom before limping over to answer.

Phichit took one look at him and made a face. “Ooh, sorry. I thought Minako was going to keep you dry last night?”

“She was too busy pawing at Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri muttered, letting Phichit in.

“So he _did_ show up? Twitter exploded last night, but I wasn’t sure if it was true or not.” Phichit made a beeline for the coffeemaker and soon had a carafe brewing. Yuuri shuffled after him and lowered himself into a chair at the dining table.

“Totally true,” he confirmed as Phichit dug into the fridge, unearthing yoghurt and berries. Phichit pushed a bowl in front of him and plopped a dollop of the yoghurt into it, then dropped a handful of the mixed berries, and handed Yuuri a spoon.

“You’re so useless after a bender,” Phichit said, patting Yuuri on the head. “Did you get to meet him?”

“I think so?” Yuuri scrunched his nose as he tried to remember, but the night’s events flitted away from him like smoke through his fingers. “I honestly don’t remember.”

“...Yuuri, how much did you drink?” Phichit asked, tapping at his phone furiously.

“I lost count,” Yuuri admitted. “Also, I think I lost my tie.”

“Mila said you had a _lot_ of champagne.”

“Why are you texting Mila?”

Phichit whistled lowly. “Mila also says you danced with Viktor Nikiforov. A lot. Until midnight.”

Yuuri froze and then let out a long, inarticulate noise before burying his face in his bowl of yoghurt. “Oh god. Oh god. Mercy kill me, Phichit.”

“What?” Phichit demanded, and Yuuri’s head pounded harder.

“I think I might have… oh god. _Oh god._ ”

“Yuuri, I can’t understand you, you’re talking into yoghurt.”

Yuuri moaned again. Phichit had to wrestle him onto his couch, where he curled up on his side facing the back of the couch, and continued to moan.

“Yuuri, c’mon, what’s wrong?”

Yuuri looked up at his best friend blearily and blinked. “Can we just… stay in for the weekend?”

Phichit examined him for a moment, then nodded. “Sure thing, buddy. Wanna watch one of those old movies?”

“Sounds nice.” Yuuri said as Phichit turned on the TV and pulled up OnDemand.

“How about a noir?” Phichit selected a title at random and settled in next to Yuuri, who turned so he could put his head in Phichit’s lap. He didn’t feel capable of sitting upright for the moment.

He’d made a complete and utter _fool_ of himself in front of _Viktor Nikiforov_ . He’d gotten drunk enough to act like a complete ass in front of _Viktor. Nikiforov._

Yuuri winced and Phichit patted his head again as the movie got underway. _What a way to start the new year,_ he thought, curling up even more. He made a mental note to bug Minako about their “shopping” expedition later; he was probably going to need a shiny consolation soon.

 

The first Monday of the new year started normal enough. Minami, who had gone home after the charity auction had wrapped up, didn’t bring up the gala at all. Instead, he and the rest of the interns were cheerful and well-rested as they picked up where they’d left off before the holidays.

Yuuri, whose stress-induced insomnia had decided to make a roaring comeback, elected to work quietly at his desk and only interact with others when approached to do so. He was on his fifth cup of coffee when Minako arrived and sauntered over to him.

“Viktor Nikiforov wants to coordinate with our nonprofit,” she trilled, practically spinning on her toes. “He left me a _lovely_ voicemail about possibly setting up scholarship grants for aspiring medical students!”

Yuuri just stared at her. “Uh?”

“I’ve decided you’re going to be assigned to Nikiforov Enterprises, by the way,” she added, grinning. “I’ve got too many cases on my hands at the moment, and you two seemed to hit it off on New Year’s Eve.”

“ _Minako-senpai!_ ” he hissed.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” she said, poking his nose. “I guarantee it!”

“You _owe_ me!” he shot back at her, and she fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Sounds fine to me! Here’s the number to call, be sure to prepare for the face-to-face!” she tossed a post-it onto Yuuri’s desk and skipped away.

Yuuri briefly considered scooting his seat out and curling up in the alcove under his desk until the world quit crapping on him, but he looked up at the interns. They were all staring at him.

“You got Viktor Nikiforov interested in us?” one of them asked, eyes wide.

“I… guess?” he said, shrugging.

“Katsuki-senpai,” Minami breathed. “That’s so cool!”

“I guess?”

“Leave him be,” Minako called. “I need the Summer Semester applications and we need to confirm the Spring recipients before school starts up.”

The interns spun back into activity, and Yuuri sighed in relief as he finally examined the sticky note Minako had given him.

The number wasn’t for Viktor himself, but for his PA. Yuuri hesitated for a moment before reaching for his desk phone to dial it.

 

The entry hall to Nikiforov Enterprises was cavernous and intimidating, at least to Yuuri’s frazzled brain. The swooping vaulted ceilings reminded him of a Gothic cathedral.

“Mister Katsuki?”

He blinked and turned to face the dark-haired young man approaching from behind the receptionist’s desk.

“Georgi Popovich, personal assistant to Mister Nikiforov.”

Yuuri shook the proffered hand, trying to swallow down his nerves. “Pleasure.”

“Likewise. Mister Nikiforov is waiting for you.” Georgi smirked, and that did nothing to ease Yuuri’s anxiety.

Still, he’d made the meeting and shown up. It would reflect badly on Minako if he chickened out now. He gulped and followed the PA to the bank of elevators, attempting to steady his breathing.

Try as he might, he had been unable to dredge up a complete recollection of the New Year’s Even gala after Mila and Sara had managed to win him in the auction. That left him walking into his first meeting with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor absolutely, utterly _cold_.

Yuuri hated the cold meet, but at least no one had any guns or poisoned knives at this one. Unless Viktor Nikiforov was into weirder stuff than anyone had ever guessed.

The elevator dinged and pulled him out of his thoughts - why would anyone carry a poisoned knife out of its sheath in their pocket? Thanks, intrusive thoughts - and Georgi escorted him through the executive offices and past the receptionist’s desk.

 _Breathe_ , he told himself. The meeting would go a lot better if his brain wasn’t deprived of oxygen.

Georgi knocked on the CEO office door, and gestured for Yuuri to come with him.

Viktor Nikiforov was pacing behind his desk, which immediately set off Yuuri’s anxiety again - he’d been _waiting_ , and Yuuri was barely on time, which means that Viktor had been expecting him _early_ and that made Yuuri _late_ ; his traitorous brain began to whir and he barely heard Georgi announce his presence before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

Viktor’s eyes were just as blue as Yuuri remembered, and he looked almost as… _shy_? Could he be feeling as nervous as Yuuri was?

Well, that was a bit of a relief. Tiny bit.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Viktor said, his smile lighting up his face. It reached his eyes, Yuuri noted. They were really sparkly and pretty, and now would be a bad time to sigh like a lovestruck teenage girl so his _stupid teenage crush needed to go away now_. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

Yuuri coughed and met Viktor halfway, shaking the proffered hand and definitely not hanging onto it any longer than necessary. “I-it’s an honor to be working with you, Mister Nikiforov,” he managed to say, and he was proud of himself for not squeaking.

“It’s my pleasure,” Viktor replied, squeezing Yuuri’s hand gently before letting go. “And please, call me Viktor. I’m looking forward to collaborating with you.”

Yuuri fought the urge to melt into a simpering puddle in the middle of the executive suite. “All right, Viktor,” he said instead, and it was only a _little_ breathy. “So. How do you want to start?”

The sunlight broke through the cloud cover outside and filled the office, catching in Viktor’s hair and creating a halo around the man’s face, eyes still sparkling. “Well,” he said, “I have a few ideas…”

♘

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I put Scott Bradlee's Postmodern Jukebox in Gotham. Have I mentioned how much we love PMJ? THEY'RE ON TOUR! [squeeing]
> 
> Here's some songs for you:
> 
> ["What Is Love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuQQOInbF88)
> 
> ["Bye Bye Bye"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZD3thRb6uOg)
> 
> ["Can't Stop The Feeling"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZW6Jtl8wewg)
> 
> ["Are You Gonna Be My Girl"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cdo0lfWoqws)
> 
> ["Lean On"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzFJNsij38c)
> 
> ["Lovefool"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXjZeCL0C9o)
> 
> ["Bad Romance"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VCTOpdlZJ8U)
> 
> ["I Believe In A Thing Called Love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQwpQM2JDXg)
> 
> ["Break Free"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d85tijy0pBs)
> 
> ["Creep"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Ub3vliRRXI)
> 
>  
> 
> [NIC DREW THE KISS.](https://twitter.com/NICHOLASonICE/status/855333158455132160) [HEAVY BREATHING]
> 
> As usual, [feel free to check out the Tumblr and scream at us about... well. Anything!](http://yoibatmanau.tumblr.com)


End file.
